


soldier, poet, king

by NyxiePie



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Demon Darryl Noveschosch, Demon Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Dream Team SMP Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Dream team centric, Found Family, GeorgeNotFound-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrid Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrid Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Sapnap-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Sort Of, The Nether (Minecraft), no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:01:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29469891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxiePie/pseuds/NyxiePie
Summary: Sapnap is an always flickering flame, one that never goes out. George is the one loved by all that set eyes upon him.  And Dream is a god, the creator of the world and someone that strikes hearts into those who don't know him.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	1. the soldier (the flame of danger)

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter of 3. Each one is centered on each of the Dream Team members. Sapnap's first, this one obviously, George will come next, and Dream is last.

Sapnap is born from fire, deep in an oozing lava pool, with sharp claws on his hands, the same hands that have stains of soot and ash. His claws can cut deeply, and his tail can lash violently. But his words can be thoughtful and his gaze can be soft. His demonic features look scary to strangers, but they are comforting and warm and  _ home _ for those Sapnap opens his heart to. He is home for many, and he loves it because a demon’s core instinct is to protect their loved ones. He does so happily, giving warmth and love and protection to them, and he will do it until his death is what’s given instead.

His loved ones are many in numbers, but even so, his Soul Bond is not a person. It’s surprising, and even his closest friends are still a little shocked. But he isn’t stupid, he loves and protects but knows that if a demon chooses the wrong person and they fall out, they will be damned until death. His father gives him the advice and it's hypocritical, because his father Bonded to their best friend, but Sapnap knows deep down that his father’s bond with Theirs is so strong that even when death parted them, they’ll still be thinking of each other. No one is able to break Bad and Skeppy. Maybe that’s what makes Sapnap so nervous.

His Bond is his headband, once a bandana but after Sapnap rips it too many times he decides a headband helps better. It’s fire resistant, so Sapnap doesn’t worry about it burning during his frequent lava baths. Sapnap finds comfort in lava and fire and everything hot, just like all demons.

Every time he jumps into the oceans of heat, Dream’s breath still quickens for a moment before remembering his friend is Netherborn at heart. Sometimes Dream reaches a hand out and sometimes he even grabs a fire res potion and joins Sapnap, even if he doesn’t understand the fun of it.

Maybe, it’s because Sapnap sees himself in the sweltering heat, the fire that grows when he lights his flint & steel. A small, flickering flame, a tiny yet dangerous light. Something’s so warm yet so harmful. Something that becomes out of control easily, something that fuels hate in people’s hearts. Fuel itself, fuel for anguish and death and destruction. He watches people talk about forest fires that kill whole villages and talk about rumors of demons that kill people in the same uncontrollable frenzy, and the pride in his heart swells up at both instances. He feels horror but satisfaction at the same time, and he feels dangerous.

And maybe he is, because he is a demon and his sole purpose is to protect and fight and kill-- sometimes the intensity that comes with being born in the Nether is not something Sapnap likes at all.

But there are also tranquil things, things that make Sapnap purr deep in his chest or make him smile a fanged smile that shows off the naturally bright white teeth or the sharp canines he has. Horn decorating is a big thing in demon culture-- giving gold rings and jewels to cover the horns on your loved one’s heads, to show them you care by bedazzling them. Usually either parents do it to their children, or demons to their partners. Typically platonic relationships and platonic marriages are more common, but occasionally romantic relationships happen.

There’s a third option to the decorating, very very close loved ones-- like brothers or people you think very highly of, but few demons form close enough bonds to consider one another brothers for more than a human lifespan, which, compared to demon’s, is not very long.

It’s an activity Sapnap takes part in with George and Dream, too. They don’t have proper demon horns-- Dream has small ram horns but they’re aren’t large enough for proper decorating, and George doesn’t have any at all, so Sapnap makes due with what he has. 

Sometimes George wakes up to multiple rings on his fingers and a very tired Sap that hasn’t slept for a day or two because of the intense mining it took to find the gemstones. Sometimes Dream sits back and lets Sapnap braid his hair and put strings of jewels over his small, not properly grown horns, and he lets the younger braid flowers the colors of emeralds into his hair. Neither says anything about it but Sapnap knows they keep every trinket he gives them.

As Sapnap gets closer to George and Dream, he jokes about how inseparable they are and how they deserve a team name, something cool and recognizable. Dream wheezes and says they should call themselves the Dream Team, because of his name and how they’re the best team ever, and George trips on a rock a moment later. They all laugh at the idea of it, but eventually their ironic group name cements itself into being more than just a joke.

An unbreakable team, an immovable force. It's him, and his two closest friends against the world, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

\----

Even when Sapnap and Dream first meet, Sapnap is violent. It’s a good thing in the Nether; to be able to slash and swipe and kill any enemy that stands in his way. His father teaches him about the more human rules in the overworld. Don’t kill like that unless absolutely necessary or it's a server where that’s the main goal. Treat others with kindness. The type of rules that cause Sapnap both pain and giddyness. An unreachable standard. But that’s the overworld, and this is the Nether, and they’re two different places, so he doesn’t follow those rules.

That’s how he’s able to kill the hoglin with little thought. A slash, and it's done. The growls of the beast are lost to the buzzing in his head.

The reason he fights it-- is cowering in the corner, eyes dark and scarred, figure tense with nerves. The buzzing dies down as Sapnap spares a passing glance at them. They’re clearly from the overworld and are terrified of the Nether, so he decides to take pity on them.

“Hello,” English is weird on Sapnap’s tongue, it's the language the ones above speak, but his father taught him some because it was apparently important. This is the first use he finds for it.

The ram hybrid looks up from their cowering, eyes still wide but now focused on the demon hybrid. Sapnap realizes he’s still in his true form and probably looks utterly frightening, so he shifts so he looks closer to human than before. He still has his claws, tail, horns and sharp teeth but his skin is no longer a pitch black and is now a tan-ish color. His eyes are now orange, like fire, and if Sapnap wasn’t trying to calm the human down he’d totally admire them.

“H-hi?” Their voice is different from Sapnap’s, as to be expected. It’s smoother. Sapnap likes it. “Please-- please don’t eat me…”

Sapnap wants to laugh. The idea of demons eating humans is so funny. Why would they? Eating human flesh or drinking human blood is the equivalent of eating nylium. Awful taste, no health boosts. But he doesn’t, because that probably will convince them he’s out for their blood.

He tries to keep his voice as far away from a growl as he can. “My name is Sapnap. I’m a demon hybrid, but I’m friendly, so I won’t hurt you.”

The ram hybrid looks unconvinced. “Promise?” They sniffle. They’re probably his age by the looks of it-- Sapnap is 26 cycles old, and if he remembers what Skeppy said one time, that means he’s about… 13 in human years. They’re probably another two or three cycles older.

“Of course,” He says, taking a step or two closer to them but making sure his movements are clear and not at all sudden. They still seem wary, but they aren’t flinching away. Progress. “Mind telling me your’s?”

“Dream.” They clear their throat before speaking. Sapnap thinks the name suits them. “What are your pronouns?”

Pronouns are a vague concept Sapnap doesn’t fully get the hang of. In Galactic, they aren’t all that important. Skeppy explained it to him and Bad a quarter-cycle ago but he doesn’t know many details. What he does know is the bare minimum, so he says the first ones that come to mind.

“He/him.”

“...Me too.”

Sapnap smiles and his tail lashes behind him involuntarily. The ram hybrid-- Dream, seems less nervous now. “Well, we can bond over being he/hims, then!” The sentence makes perfect sense in his head. That’s what the plural form of it is, isn’t it?

But Dream finds it hilarious because he starts wheezing. At first he thought the air was too humid or something for the hybrid to handle but nope, Dream just has the weirdest laugh he’s ever heard. Not that he doesn’t like it-- few demons laugh anymore, most are too busy trying not to be killed. It’s like music to his ears. Albeit weird music that sounds nothing like it came out of a jukebox.

“So are-- are we friends now?” Dream asks, tilting his head, and Sapnap sees the broken ram horn on his head and the other unbroken one which twists down and near his ear.

“What?” Sapnap says, digging through his bag to see if he has any gemstones or strings of jewels to put on them because bare horns aren’t very good, and if he wants to convince his father to let Dream stay, Dream needs to look presentable. “What are… friends?”   


Dream’s eyes widen again, an emerald color that reminds Sapnap of the eyes his father chooses to have when they shift into a more humanoid form. “It’s like… I’ll be your companion, and you’ll be mine. We can… ride around and play together and grow up together.”

Sapnap isn’t sure of all the definitions of those words but they sound good and he thinks he likes the idea of a friend. So he nods. “Alright. I’ll be your… compa..compin..” “Companion.”

He laughs. “Companion."

\----

They find another companion, a colorblind fool with a compass that claims to be one of Herobrine’s creations. His eyes are brown but he wears clout goggles to hide them. The scars on his arms from prior fights are few but he still wears a white shirt under his blue one to hide them. He is normal compared to them, ignoring the weird nature of the compass, so they figure he might be lying to them a bit, and they accept it. Lying is a norm in both their childhoods so why wouldn’t it be one in his?

His name is George, but the full name engraved on the compass is GeorgeNotFound. The blue shirt has a red box in the middle, which is useless considering George cannot see red, but it does have 404 written on it.

They don’t think he is a subject of Herobrine because when Dream and Sapnap are loud and boisterous, George is the calm waves of the ocean pulling them back before they act bluntly. Herobrine is chaos and discord and George is the opposite. They don’t believe it for a couple weeks while they’re traveling, because while Sapnap is burning down villages George is picking up the stray mushrooms in the forests.

It changes, though, when George finds use for his compass.

They need a traveling trader, because they need more supplies and those are usually the easiest guys to trade with. But they travel, its in the name, so its rare to find one when you need one. George fixes the problem easily.

They set up their camp as they make small talk, conversations ranging from gossip to battle plans to anything really. As George roasts mushrooms on a stick over the campfire, he speaks up.

“If we really desperately need a trader, I could use my compass.” He offers, and Sapnap doesn’t need him to take off the goggles to know George considers this a small deal, so Sapnap assumes he’s joking.

“What, is Gogy gonna speak to the compass and it’s gonna lead us to someone?” Dream pauses in his pacing as Sapnap rolls his eyes at the mere audacity at the idea. They all already know the compass is useless but George wants it as a memorial or something, so they keep it around.

“Yeah, actually.” George shoots back. “He coded all the compasses given to us so that if we had a clear image in our head of who we wanted to find, we could. It was so if we wanted to destroy someone, troll them or whatever, we’d be able to find them easily.” The fact that He George is talking about is Herobrine is unspoken but known already.

“You’re joking.” Dream demands, and George shakes his head.

“Wait, I know how to test it. Dream, go a couple yards away yeah? Then you can try out the compass, Gogy.” Sapnap feels stupid for entertaining the idea but it certiantly is possible…

Dream sputters and wants to protest but he knows the seriousness in both of their voices. So he sighs, resigns himself and jogs a couple yards away, where they can still see him but he is far enough that he has to shout to be heard. George nods when he's far enough away and gives a thumbs up.

“How?” Sapnap demands, and is about to speak more before George puts a finger on his lips to shush him. He takes out the damned thing and opens it, looking at the arrow that spins crazily, not in any specific direction.

“Find me the masked one in green, whose laugh is a wheeze and whose friends are here.”

Sapnap holds his breath as the spinner slowly stops spinning, and instead of pointing north like a compass should it points east. Sapnap isn’t sure whether he wants to look up, the suspense of this is a lot to handle. He does.

The arrow points to Dream.

\----

When Dream starts the SMP there are only eight of them, and Sapnap is fine with it because it keeps peace he isn’t sure they’d have if there’s more people. The majority are hybrids. Sapnap and George are the first two to join of course, and the others join relatively quickly.

There’s Callahan, a man of few words figuratively and literally. They are mute, and if the remains of stitches around their mouth have anything to say, it’s that it wasn’t a choice for them. They’re a reindeer hybrid, with large antlers they cut every so often so that they don’t become increasingly too large for their head. They can be sassy but they are loyal, and they help with heavy lifting with few complaints.

Awesamdude is a creeper hybrid, and he is good at a lot of things. The occasional blowing up should be an issue but they don’t make it one, and instead move on from it because it’s an instinct Sam cannot control. His eyes look sort of like creepers’ but they’re prettier in Sapnap’s opinion because they don’t hold the constant threat of gunpowder.

Alyssa joins very soon after Callahan because they’re best friends and consider each other siblings and someone has to translate the sign language before they all learn it. She is like Calla, loyal and ready with quips and jokes should someone start a fight with her, but it is always more likely for her to sit back and watch than get involved. She’s a reindeer hybrid just like Callahan, but her antlers are smaller and trimmed down more.

Ponk is human, no known hybrid blood but he is a redstoner similar to Sam, though a bit less skilled due to inexperience. He’s a trickster at heart, and a lot of his gifts revolve around pranks that make people endeared and annoyed at once. He wears a ski mask, maybe because he’s shy, and they can only see his eyes and only some of his brown skin and they don’t pry, because sometimes being secretive is necessary.

And there’s Badboyhalo, who joins last because they’re also on a different SMP with their best friend and the instinct to protect their Bond is very intense. They’re a fullblood Nether demon, and Sapnap’s adopted father, though due to their age difference Bad sometimes says it’d be more like brothers. They are protective and stronger than most, because Dream doesn’t try to limit their demonic abilities. Bad never says anything about it because it is basic decency but everyone can tell they’re incredibly grateful because at the opposite side of the spectrum, there are people who want them dead because of their heritage.

It’s just the eight of them for a while, a safe haven to all the chaos outside of there, and they’re all content with it. They make a community house and make paths to connect different buildings and everything is fine and safe. A warmth not caused by fire but by family. When Dream adds a couple others, Sapnap still doesn’t complain and neither do the others because what’s the harm in adding more people, so that there are less players out where they could die easily?

And the next couple ones he adds are kids, kids Dream decided shouldn’t be fighting out there alone with no one to take care of them, and Dream’s right. Sapnap’s proud to say he feels a sense of brotherly love towards Dream and the people he adds, because they feel like home just as much as the rest.

\----

The SMP doesn’t go as well as Sapnap hopes it does. Wars are started, pets are killed, and sometimes he pauses to think about what would be different if Dream didn’t make this place and instead they continued traveling across the world.

He sees Purpled stop coming out of his UFO as often as a growing boy should, keeping himself isolated so he doesn’t get hurt. 

He sees George ignore the chaos as best as he can, hands over his ears and eyes closed like he can will himself to sleep and it’ll all be gone when he awakens. 

He sees how certain people do thrive in the war driven environment, but he also sees how people die in it. It’s a double edged sword and when Sapnap looks at the blade, he sees his best friend and he knows eventually, the decision will come down to him on whether he’ll raise the sword up against Dream or use it for him.

\----

Sapnap rarely strays from Dream’s side, even as others are painting him as a villain. He cannot see that. His vision of Dream is clear: the injured boy he found in the nether that he and his father took pity on, the one whose ram horns were cut off and the one who was separated from his mother long ago. But his mother lives in the SMP now, she’s a pirate and she washed ashore a month or two ago, and his horns aren’t important to him anymore, and all the emotion he saw in the green eyes in the Nether is now hidden by a white mask.

Dream is a god, and he takes full control of this, and when Sapnap pleads for an explanation he simply says “because I wanted to.”

He says he doesn’t care about anything, which is right, of course it’s right. He doesn’t care about Sapnap or George or even Bad. He doesn’t care that Alyssa is never here anymore and he doesn’t care that Purpled doesn’t talk to anyone as a defense mechanism, the same mechanism that kept him safe in Bedwars, before Dream saved him.

That makes raising the sword a little easier. It makes yelling at his best friend for leaving them and abandoning him back a little less strife to handle. But he thinks about it, he thinks about it a lot. He misses his best friend. He misses when they go on adventures together and jokingly steal from rich people but never give it back. He misses when they fight in Skywars matches where they goofed around, never serious unless Dream wanted a streak.

He misses being at home. He misses sitting in the Nether with Dream as a kid, as Sapnap explained all the things about how the dimension worked and guessed how different it was to the overworld. He misses hugging Dream and George and not feeling guilt for hugging people who caused the deaths of many others.

And Sapnap is not innocent. The blood of hundreds is on his hands, because thats what demons do, and only after learning that humans didn’t like it was when he mellowed out a little, but not much, because he started the first conflict on the server and he was the one who got into one too many petty fights.

He shivers, and he holds George in a hug, both of them knowing that hugging in the rain, under the little cover the trees gave, was the stupidest thing of all. And he knew that in the end, George and Sapnap were more at fault than everyone thought.

And he wonders, he wonders about how different everything would be if Dream and Sapnap hadn’t met at all.


	2. the calm before the storm (poet)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George is the calm before the storm because he wants to be, not because he should be. His heritage insists otherwise but he ignores it. He learns to ignore stuff a lot.

George isn’t stupid, he knows his best friends are creatures of chaos, designed to rule the world and set humans ablaze. He knows he’s also supposed to. He’s supposed to make humans wish they were never born. A subject of Herobrine’s madness. A direct creation of his. The shard of Herobrine’s soul that decides to not be discord and chaos. While his friends are alight fires, he is a smoldering coal-- sturdy and strong and not in constant risk of going out. And after seeing this all happen, he learns that it’s probably best to keep his heritage on the down low because otherwise, bad people can find out and then he’ll be nothing more than a grave.

All of His creations have an item in common-- a compass. A compass that’s supposed use is to track down humans and unleash chaotic, messy hell upon them should the creation please. He is a vessel, a small, unimportant shard to strike more fear into human’s hearts when they hear His name. George is unimportant. George is a tiny speck in the world.

All the friends he ever has leave the village eventually. Most of them are slightly younger than him but they still leave sooner, because George doesn’t like change but maybe, maybe he should change that. When George was five, he had a best friend named Callahan, but now he’s gone because George had to move away. His friend Ponk is the only person that sticks by his side because even though he looks and acts human most of the time, when people look at the galactic imprint on his arm, they know what he is and they turn away.

He leaves eventually, too. It hurts to leave Ponk-- Ponk is like a brother to him, and they’ve both mutually helped each other so much. His mask and brown eyes and barely visible hair grows on George, so when it’s time for George to leave he doesn’t want to. But the compass’ grip on the person it seeks out becomes stronger every day, and the more the writing on his arm glows a color he can’t see, the more he wants to flee. He registers Ponk as a friend on his communicator, and promises with all his heart to stay in touch. And with his comms secured tightly, a sword on his back, and a compass on his belt, he does.

The compass leads him to multiple people without his prompting in his childhood, and who is he to deny the call of Him?

\---

The first person lives in a desert.

The walk to a village nearby is tiring, and George almost wishes he just stayed at the village and dealt with the dirty looks. He trades what he can and buys essentials. He succeeds in getting a horse for less than its original price, and then he’s off on it, humming a tune as he tries to conjure up in his head what person he’s being led to.

What he sees is yellow. Yellow scales climbing up an otherwise human arm, and then the unmistakable image of redstone dust. It doesn’t help much, but he can assume they’re at least a little good at redstone machinery-- or trying to be. He doesn’t know their name or pronouns or even age but that can be asked when he gets there. Whenever he uses the compass, once he accepts the quest, he looks at the spinner less and focuses more on the tug of his heart. He doesn’t like looking at the glass of the compass anyways-- the 404 written on there makes him uncomfortable because it feels less like a mark and more like a stain-- a stain and reminder of what he needs to be.

It takes him shorter than he thought to get there. A month or two, he supposes. The days without his friend, brother, are like agony but the feeling gradually simmers down into numbness. Before he knows it, he’s looking down at the deep sand on the ground and wondering about his new.... Companion. He isn’t sure if he should call them his companion or toy or what, because they aren’t his friend, are they? He doesn’t even know their hobbies other than something to do with mechanics, or maybe even potion brewing. The possibilities are endless. The endlessness stretches from the desert to the person he needs to meet. It is not an urge he can ignore, not if he wants to stay working. Like a little wind up toy, he cannot function unless he does as told.

He gazes ahead at a base carved into a hillside of rock and sandstone. The entrance is not apparent and instead is hidden. He has little time to ponder where it could be before a scaled figure approaches him, full black eyes cautious but more importantly curious. Curiosity. The emotion his creator plays with the most. His vessel. George feels his heart tug and he’s almost sure it stops beating for a second before his mind settles, and the intense urge to find His is gone because he found them.

His throat is parched and he wonders after the adrenaline filled need to find them when the last time he's drank water is. He blinks at them slowly, tiredness sinking into the brown pools. “Hello,”

They smile, a toothy one that reminds George faintly of creepers and  _ oh _ , they’re probably a creeper hybrid. “Hi! Not a lot of people travel around here, but it’s a pleasure to meet you regardless.” They hold out a green hand, and George remembers nodding his head before his body gives up and he passes out, a mix of dehydration and the heat.

\----

He wakes up in a house. A nicely decorated one as well. He’s on a maroon couch, but most of the furniture around is brown or gray. It’s homey. His eyes are half lidded, and his head pounds. His hair is tousled but that doesn’t surprise him all too much. He has little time to react before a straw is shoved into his face and he sighs in relief at the coldness of the liquid in the straw. He can feel a clawed hand run their fingers through his hair as he sips feebly on the drink. He’s sat up, a position he doesn’t remember moving to but yeah, he doesn’t remember much at the moment. He tries moving, but he is pushed unbelievably gently back down.

He can hear a laugh bubbling nearby. At the back of his head, he wonders if the absurdity of it all is what’s so funny, or the shock of a random person entering their house. How did he get in here again?

“Hey, don’t drink it too quickly now, or you’ll choke.” The cup is taken away much too quickly for George’s liking, but he cannot find the strength to do much more than protest with a small  _ mrrrn _ that only makes the person laugh a little louder. He finds himself falling back asleep after a few more moments of them stroking his hair.

\----

The next time he’s awake enough to process things (which is probably only a couple hours later but George isn’t sure, time passes weirdly), the yellow stranger is back. They shove the same drink into his hands, and this time his hands don’t shake too badly that he can’t hold the cup. So he sips on it, throat thankful for the hydration and he looks at them. They smile at him.

“Welcome back to the land of the living. Not sure if you heard me while you were barely awake but my name is Awesamdude! You can call me Sam, though. They/he.” They laugh, a bubbling one that makes George smile a bit. His creator picked someone good, at least. “No pressure to introduce yourself yet, you must be thirsty still. Judging by how quick you drank that water.”

George snorts, and even though he didn’t expect his voice to work he’s not complaining so he speaks. His voice is hoarse and quiet but something is better than nothing. “I’m George.” He has to clear his throat half-way through his sentence but it seems mostly eligible so he doesn’t say anything about it. “He/him.” He adds as an afterthought, coughing a moment later.

“Alright, George, guess you’ll be staying with me for a little bit. At least until you’re not incredibly dehydrated.” Sam doesn’t explicitly say it but George knows the look of concern on their face when they say that, even if it’s phrased like a joke.

“By the way, your clothes are over there.” Sam points to a pile of cloth on the table. “They were sorta ripped, so I patched them up. Hope you don’t mind! I had to take them off of you to help you cool down,” They chuckle. “That’s a whole lot of layers to be wearing in the desert, young man.”

George looks down at the large yellow shirt he’s wearing and nods. No wonder. That means Sam has seen the galactic written on his arm, even if it’s obscured now. That means Sam saw his compass. That means Sam knows he’s not human… Sam knows a lot more about him than George knows about them. Surprisingly, he can’t bring himself to care quite yet.

\----

Living with Sam is nice, and surprisingly their topics never land on the script on his arm. Instead they’re about George moving in or his caretaking of their garden. He starts to see it as his home, and really who can blame him. He pulls his weight even though Sam makes it clear he’s essentially a long term guest, and he learns more about the environment around him. He learns that Sam wears a light cloak in the sunlight because the sun’s rays deflect off white or something like that. He learns that Sam’s scales are actually green, not yellow, and they are in fact a creeper hybrid. Their base’s door is redstone operated, and when they make George a room his door also functions using redstone.

Sam is a delight to be around. They make a schedule for the chores and what time to arrive home and when to feed the cattle. George enjoys his stay, and tries to be as nice as possible which really, isn’t so hard due to Sam’s easy kindness. But, he recognizes that they can only glance over the writing on his arm so many times before it becomes such an awkward atmosphere between them. So he brings it up.

It’s after dinner when it’s Sam’s turn to wash the dishes and George sits at the countertop and makes conversation. Today, he’s wearing a t-shirt that definitely doesn’t hide them but he forces his self consciousness to the back of his mind because he knows they won’t judge him. “Yo, Sam?”

Sam glances up from drying the bowls and silverware. “Yeah?”

Making conversation with Sam is always so easy, so why is he failing now, when he needs to most? 

“I’m a creation of Herobrine,” He blurts out, and then winces because gods, that wasn’t how he wanted to phrase it right away.

To his surprise, Sam laughs. “I figured.” They say in between their chuckles. “Not everyone has writing… engraved into their arm.”

George smiles. “Yeah,”

Sam hums back. George considers this a win.

\----

Sam is kind and all George could hope for, a hybrid who doesn’t judge him but is able to hold a conversation over the most mundane things. They teach him about redstone and their way of being able to stay calm so they aren’t always on the brink of exploding. By the end of it all, George considers them the brother he never had. But he needs to leave-- he stays with Sam for five months or so only but it’s deemed too long for the wandering soul he’s meant to be. Surprisingly Sam isn’t mad, only sad he has to leave.

Sam’s registered on his comms and he looks at the names on it one last time the morning before he leaves. He doesn’t say goodbye, because it would hurt too much but he does leave gifts. Nothing Sam couldn’t get by themself but the thought is what counts, and when he writes the note he makes sure to sign it. There are only a couple names on the logs. Sam, Ponk, and some fisherman he met one time that he never bothered to stay in contact with. He deletes the last name but reminds himself to look at the other two as often as he can.

He doesn’t want to leave but it’s just like the first time, the tug of the compass leading him away like it always does.

\----

Sapnap and Dream are the next two the compass leads him to. It spins and spins and he hesitates while watching it. The complete opposite direction from which he comes from but he can handle it. Sam shows him the surrounding area while they live together and teaches him to know which berries are safe to eat and which are not. This time, he’s more prepared. His bag has seeds and bread in it and a couple foods that won’t spoil immediately. He wears iron armor on top of the clothes he’s wearing. The shirt is similar to the one he first sported when he met Sam. The same 404 is sewn onto it and it’s the same color. His tools are better quality, and his eyes are brighter, not as weighed down by the burden of all of it.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t think about it all.

But he tries not to.

He follows the compass for three weeks to a bamboo forest, and then the compass stops leading him which confuses him because  _ what the hell is he supposed to do _ ? The only things here are the panda bears and well, the forest. The bamboo is skinny but tall, and it reaches high above where he could even think of ever trying to reach. Has he been Led to pandas? Is he supposed to spite the pandas? Hold the bamboo over their heads? This is so pointless, but George finds himself kneeling in front of them, a few feet away. He scratches his head but still asks the question.

“Hello..?”

He does not feel the unclenching feeling he felt with Sam. The feeling of finally being able to stop searching, of being satisfied. Instead, he just feels stupid. That, of course, is probably a symptom of attempting to talk to a gods damned panda bear. The panda gazes up at him, chomping on a piece of bamboo but does not say anything. Expected.

What isn't expected are the footsteps behind him and the sound of a purr. There’s no way there’s a cat in this forest, so--

“The pandas won’t talk dude. Believe me, I’ve tried.” George whirls around, still on his knees, to see someone who looks much less shocked to see him than he does. They have two sets of horns and jewelry strung on them. Their eyes are a bright orange, though covered by fluffy brown hair. The horned one isn’t alone either, there’s another next to them, dressed in an ugly yellow that blends in with the colors of their surroundings. They look less amused.

Then, the worst possible outcome he can think of. The writing on his arm burns and he feels the Feeling he felt when seeing Sam and what he expected when he first arrived at the forest. But it happens twice, one after the other without a moment in between. His eyes widen at the feeling because he’s relieved but also nervous because  _ gods _ , what did he get himself into? The yellow one has a gray sword at their belt that looks eerily similar to iron but it’s not and George can tell by the texture.

They both blink, and the one who spoke first speaks again. “You good? You look like you’ve seen a ghast!” They giggle a little and say something else but George tunes them out in favor of shakily standing up and meeting them eye to eye. Or, meeting the one on the left eye to eye. The yellow-clad one is taller, and he has to look up to meet them. So he spares himself the troubles or embarrassment.

He clears his throat, shuffling anxiously. “Hello,” He tries again. This time it feels natural, like putting in the last piece of a puzzle. “I’m George.”

The horned one laughs, a sweet soft giggle that almost makes George smile himself. “I’m Sapnap! This is Dream.” Sapnap points to the person next to him, who waves a little.

“What are your pronouns?” He asks. “I use he/him.” After Sam introduced themself like that it only made sense for him to do it like that too. It was polite and straight to the point. George liked that.

Sapnap tilts their head, and Dream speaks for the first time. “We both use he/him as well.” They both nod to each other. Then, Sapnap grins, and George isn’t sure whether the feeling is dread or excitement.

“Alright, Georgie, welcome to OUR bamboo forest!”

_ What? _

\----

Dream starts an SMP, a place where they can live and be safe. And George likes it, because he likes everything Dream does and why would it be anything but bad? There’s only eight of them and its nice. They build a community house, THE Community House, and its a nice safe haven for all of them. One big happy family. Family… A word he hasn’t used in awhile, but one he’s happy to.

He does add a couple other people to the SMP and even when it isn’t completely peaceful and even when the teasing becomes a bit less good natured, George turns a blind eye because otherwise it’s fun and beautiful and he doesn’t want to acknowledge the bad things. The L’manburg revolution has started and he doesn’t care all too much because why should he? He helps Dream and goes back to chilling because that’s what Dream told him to do. He doesn’t bother himself with such things. He acts apathetic and tries not to look at the sadness in Wilbur’s eyes as he ignores the new president of L’manburg.

He doesn’t care all too much when the elections start and even when Quackity enlists his help to run with him. He doesn’t care all too much when he and Quackity win after merging their votes with Schlatt’s. He doesn’t care when Schlatt gets a little too trigger happy.

That’s what he tells himself as he curls up and falls asleep again, unhealthy amounts of sleeping all he does. Because falling asleep over and over is easier than facing the grief and destruction and the shit that went down. Dreamless sleep is what he gets and he doesn’t complain because the first time he gets dreams suck anyways because they each show him the things he doesn’t want to see.

\----

George is made king and then his title is revoked a mere couple days later, and while he doesn’t care Sapnap does. Sapnap reminds him that life is more than what George can see. The dull grass and sky are suddenly a little brighter. Sapnap takes a lighter and he spits in the face of those who disgrace him and he lights up the world so easily. Sapnap reminds him of older times, where not everything was centered around war and bloodshed. Where it was just eight friends chilling.

Dream’s response, everytime he thinks of it, is chilling. It shakes him straight to the bone.

\----

George and Sapnap both are at fault, for what’s happened and what could have happened. If they were more present, if they didn’t blindly follow the one they considered their best friend, their brother. Three was the number they claimed so boldly, so proudly but now it was falling apart and there’s only two.

George holds Sapnap close, under the dark oak trees, tears freely falling and mixing in with the rain. He remembers what Dream told him, what seems so long ago now. Back when they first started the SMP and George had almost fainted because he worked on the Community House for hours on end. Back when the Community House wasn’t destroyed.

_ “Don’t overexert yourself. We’re here to be safe.” _

George cries harder, and Sapnap doesn’t let go. Right now, they’re all they have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Srry for the wait! George is :) an interesting character. Dream comes next (and last)! (All relationships in this are platonic :] pls don't insinuate ships in the comments. Ty!)
> 
> Comments are appreciated :]] they give me motivation lol  
> My tumblr is @Cuteboyhalo, feel free to send an ask abt anything!


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